


let's get sheet-faced

by byunbaekcute



Series: season's greetings [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: College!AU, M/M, hansol and jisoo throw bomb-ass parties, mingyu meets wonwoo amongst cobwebs and haunted classrooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byunbaekcute/pseuds/byunbaekcute
Summary: Mingyu didn’t quite know what to expect at his very first Halloween party since being born into this cruel, cruel world, but running into Jeon Wonwoo dressed as an apparent ‘cuddle monster’ in his oversized pajamas certainly wasn’t it.





	

Mingyu has never really been a big fan of Halloween. Well— pumpkin spice lattes are always fucking _bomb,_ but pumpkins carved and lit into Jack-O-Lanterns not as much. Every October 31st, Mingyu has to deal with children scouring the neighbourhoods with their miniature broomsticks and makeshift pointy witch noses poorly made out of craft paper and Elmer’s glue, knocking on doors to collect their sugary sweets and treats— Twix bars, caramels wrapped in black and orange foil, lollipops that resemble spiders, the occasional rubber ghost pencil topper that Mingyu thinks is fucking hideous, resembling used tissue paper instead.

 

And the whole tradition of trick or treating? Bullshit. No one actually _tricks_ the kids. Why bother giving two options when everyone is obviously just going to offload a handful of diabetes onto the awaiting palms of the children?

 

Forget the children— Mingyu thinks the _teenagers_ spend the holiday in a even dumber and unfathomable fashion. Why most of them think it's an occasion to put themselves on display, Mingyu will never understand. Halloween doesn’t validify squeezing into skin-tight spandex costumes, slapping on a pair of cat ears and calling it a costume.

 

Slapping on a pair of devil horns instead? Yeah, that still doesn’t count. The idea of going to wild house parties and getting shit-faced on cheap vodka whilst parading in a Tinkerbell costume (just like Soonyoung had last Halloween, with Seokmin dressed as his Peter Pan) doesn’t appeal to Mingyu one bit.

 

More than anything, however, Mingyu is _scared_. He hates the idea of blood and ghosts and supernatural beings, and the last thing he’ll ever fucking do is _pay_ to be scared shitless in some badly-budgeted haunted attraction that seemingly comes hand-in-hand with Halloween.

 

Mingyu’s ready to spend his Halloween night curled up in bed, watching reruns of that terrible chick flick Hansol had recommended to him, when Seungcheol promptly kicks his room door open. (“Trick or treat, motherfucker!”) Soonyoung and Seokmin trail in after him, _of course they do,_ and they’re far too caught up in a heated debate to greet Mingyu.

 

Seungcheol looks a hundred percent through with the two males as he hurls himself on Mingyu’s bed, planting his face right into the mattress. Mingyu thinks the older student might've stopped breathing.

 

“— for the last time, I'm the sugar plum fairy, you fucker!”

 

“Look, dude, you _could_ pass off as the wicked witch of the West!”

 

Soonyoung lets out an anguished cry that really just resembles the sound of a deflating balloon before he finally seems to realise where he is, judging from the way he runs to Mingyu and frantically grips onto either side of his shoulders, shaking him with the same force one would use to shake up a cocktail.

 

“Mingyu! Tell Seokmin that I'm _obviously_ the sugar plum fairy— he's supposed to be the nutcracker, but he decided to be a nutcase instead and _fucked_ up!”

 

Mingyu's eyes wander to Soonyoung’s outfit, from his pink leotard with a tutu embedded with rhinestones and adorned by sequins, to the pair of matching wings strapped onto his back, and to the tiara that sits on a fluffy bed of strawberry blonde hair.

 

Soonyoung looks like he has just been dipped into a bowl of bright sparkles and pink glitter. He continues to shoots his mouth off about how he makes the _perfect_ sugar plum fairy, looking a lot like he's on the verge of tears.

 

“Couldn't you choose to be a mad scientist, or a baseball player, or just anything that isn't a _fairy_ , Soonyoung?”

 

Soonyoung falls gracefully onto Mingyu’s bed with a hand to his forehead (Seungcheol curses Soonyoung to the deepest pits of hell when he lands right on top of him), and it sends Mingyu down a spiral of regret and horror— why did he ever agree to be friends with a bunch of overly-emotional princesses disguised as a group of rowdy teenage boys?  

 

Seokmin doesn't fair much better in terms of costumes. He has on a checkered pinafore in shades of white and baby blue Mingyu has only seen on his ten-year-old sister, and the chiffon blouse Seokmin wears under it has _puffy sleeves._ Mingyu’s left eye invariably twitches.

 

“And what the fuck are you supposed to be?”

 

“Hey, rude dude. I'm Dorothy,” Seokmin pipes up, looking as unabashed as ever. He proudly kicks a foot up onto Mingyu’s bed to show off his pumps, a glaring and obnoxious red, as though to prove a point. When he fluffs up the skirt of his pinafore, Mingyu swears he sees the ruffled edges of a petticoat from under it.

 

“I thought Soonyoung was going to dress as the tinman or some other character from _The Wizard of Oz,_ but _—”_ Seokmin sighs, and gestures over to the fairy who has taken up residence under Mingyu’s blankets, “Looks like there was a miscommunication on his part.”

 

“You're _roommates,_ Seokmin. How the _fuck_ do you manage to screw up communication when your beds are an arm’s length away from each other?”

 

“Like I said, a miscommunication on _his_ part. We agreed on Wizard of Oz!”

 

Soonyoung rips the blanket away from his face and looks ready to have a go at Seokmin as he opens his mouth to protest, but Seungcheol soon slaps a gloved hand over the offending cavity.

 

The oldest male is dressed as _Romeo,_ and he looks fed up to the point that he's ready to pull the sword attached to his belt out and stab it right through Soonyoung's tiny, shriveled heart.

 

“We’re going to that Halloween party down at the gym, the one thrown by the student council, and you're coming with.” Seungcheol reaches over to rummage through his bag previously strewn precariously across the room, and pulls out a box wrapped in the school’s newspaper. “Got you an outfit, _Merry fucking Christmas_ , and you're fucking welcome.”

 

The box is thrown in Mingyu’s general direction and the contents of it spill out in a heaping mess at Mingyu’s feet, but not before hitting him square in the face. Mingyu whispers a prayer for the patience to deal with the sorry excuse for best friends that he has and bends over to bundle the clothing up in his arms.

 

“ _Fucking—_ I hate Halloween parties, dude, you _know_ that. I'm not going to be your plus-one, go ask your Jeonghan instead.”

 

“That's the _thing!”_ Soonyoung shouts from under the blanket. His muffled voice does a terrific job at eating away at Mingyu’s sanity, or whatever's left of it. “Jeonghan is helping out at the party, because they were apparently shorthanded and Jisoo asked him for that favour. _Romeo_ over here just wants to see his Juliet.”

 

It’s silent for a moment, before Soonyoung adds, “We suggested he be Paris though, since I’m pretty sure Jeonghan sees more of a Romeo in Jisoo.”

 

“They all die anyway,” Seokmin helpfully says in a sing-song voice.

 

“At least Romeo dies with his feelings reciprocated.”

 

Seungcheol does nothing to deny this, and gathers a pillow to take a swing at the pathetic lump hiding under the duvet, sending it doubling over in pain. He casually hops off the bed and plucks a piece of garment from Mingyu’s arms, looking just a little too proud of himself.

 

“Look, I got you a vampire costume, because everyone thinks those things are sexy as fuck. This will accentuate all the nooks and crannies of your body, dude, you might even get _laid_.”

 

“I thought all parties thrown by the student council serve only apple juice, ban all forms of bodily contact, and have that math teacher with the funky undercut chaperoning and all that shit.”

 

Seungcheol lets out an obnoxious honk of laughter. He unfolds the costume, the shirt off-white with detailed lace ruffles at the chest, and holds it up against Mingyu’s body. He clicks his tongue in satisfaction and mutters a praise to himself when he finds it to be the perfect size.

 

“Their parties do _suck,_ but not when Hansol’s the new president of the student body,” Seokmin offers as an explanation, prodding at the unmoving Soonyoung with a finger.

 

“And why do I need to be there?”

 

Seungcheol waves a hand dismissively and begins to tug at the hem of his friend’s shirt.

 

“What's a party with two idiots and no Mingyu to be the third?”

 

Mingyu doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He feels a migraine coming on, and now wants nothing more than aspirin and a good night's sleep.

 

Seungcheol, however, is pulling maniacally at his shirt and yelling incoherently, something about how Mingyu has to _up his game_ and _live a little._ He puts up a fight, but with Soonyoung wrapped around his legs and Seokmin helping Seungcheol wrestle the shirt off his head, Mingyu loses.

 

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

 

So that's the story behind why Mingyu ends up dressed as a _vampire_ at ten on a school night, and he curses his friends to oblivion the moment he steps foot into the school’s gym, already regretting his decision to come.

 

Hansol fucking _hollers_ at Mingyu upon noticing his presence, immediately latching onto his arm like an annoying leech.

 

It doesn’t help that Hansol’s is literally dressed as said worm, complete with pompom antennas that look incredibly _stupid._ Leeches don't even _have_ antennas, for goodness sake— and the ones Hansol has bounce in sync with every breath the student president takes and every word he speaks.

 

Mingyu feels the urge to rip a feeler clean off Hansol’s head and cord it around his neck. _Fuck blood-sucking_ , Mingyu thinks, _Hansol is sucking the_ soul _right out of him with every sentence that leaves his mouth._

 

_(“Yo, man, you made it! Who do I have to thank for blessing me with your presence? Fuck, we’re actually twinning— you're a vampire and I'm a leech. We both suck blood!”_

 

_“Dude, you looking fly as hell. Want me to match you up? There was this girl who came as Bella, you can totally pass off as an especially sullen Edward—”_

 

 _“Totally digging the ruffles, dude, you look like a_ real man— _”)_

 

Mingyu busies himself with the cup of fruit punch Hansol offers him to avoid answering any invasive questions, the drink tasting suspiciously like it was doused with vodka.

 

When Mingyu asks about it, he just gets a hard clap on the back and a less than assuring grin from the head student councillor. He doesn't want to believe that this _thing_ is the president of the student body, but Hansol has a badge pinned to his costume— a neon orange tag with _Chwe Hansol, President_ scrawled over it in black letters that looks like it was written by someone without opposable thumbs— and Mingyu can't help but question the teachers who elected the boy for the position.

 

Why couldn't they have chosen Jisoo instead?

 

There’s a bowl of candy corn in Hansol’s hands, and Mingyu crinkles his nose in disgust as he watches the head councillor pop them like Tic Tacs. He cheeks the piece offered to him, and tries not to gag at the brief taste of it against his tongue.

 

With a weary smile, Mingyu excuses himself and wanders off to explore the gym. He hates to admit it, but he's actually _impressed._ The lights are dimmed to give off a spooky effect, fake cobwebs hang from the ceiling, and there's a blanket of fog concealing any sight of the gym floor— undoubtedly generated by some kind of expensive, high-tech gadget that Hansol must've gotten his hands on.

 

Noisy remixes of Rihanna blast from the speakers and pulses through Mingyu’s ears, and he can't hear himself over the loud music. There are people pressed together and dancing in their eccentric costumes, and Mingyu thinks it looks fucking _ridiculous_.

 

(There's a _hotdog_ gyrating too strongly to the music, and Mingyu definitely wants to dig out his eyeballs when Hotdog starts to grind against one of the seven dwarves from Snow White. Mingyu can't find the strength in himself to find out if it was _Grumpy_ or _Bashful,_ or whatever the fuck the names of the dwarves were.)

 

There are some costumes, however, that sends shivers down Mingyu’s spine and chills him down to the bone.

 

No, he's not talking about the girls clad in skimpy nurse outfits that leave little to imagination, he's talking about that killer clown by the dessert table sampling tea cakes, and that realistic-looking zombie on the bleachers making out with Thor.

 

Mingyu tries to convince himself that it's the power of makeup, but it's hard for him to keep calm when he sees his schoolmates looking like the undead— bloody and rotting.

 

Wen Junhui from advanced literature class comes dressed as Chucky, with a bloodied chopper that he brandishes and waves in the air as he chases Mingyu across the gym. Mingyu stubs his toe on Hansol’s fancy smoke generator, and Junhui laughs so hard he almost throws up.

 

Mingyu feels light-headed as he tries futilely to catch his breath, and has to resist the urge to _cry_. The collar of his shirt scratches at his throat and the multiple layers of his costume is suffocating, and Mingyu wants to drown in the extensive fabric of his cape. He takes a seat at a table nestled in the back of the gym, and closes his eyes as he rests his head against the smooth surface.

 

“Hey, are you alright there?”

 

Somebody taps him on the shoulder, and even though the touch is gentle, it sends Mingyu flying out of his chair, obscenities falling from his lips.

 

He crashes onto the floor, limbs flailing all over the place. Mingyu gives himself whiplash from the speed with which he looks up, his head already pounding with an ungodly ache, and he lets out a miserable cry. He is greeted by a vaguely familiar face, and Mingyu realises that it's _Jeon Wonwoo_ , the secretary of the student’s council.

 

Mingyu doesn't share any classes with Wonwoo, but they have exchanged greetings in the form of small nods and gentle quirks of the lips whenever he sees the boy walk down the hallways with Jisoo or Hansol, dressed in his usual oversized cable knit sweaters and ripped jeans.

 

Mingyu hasn't seen him speak more than a few sentences, doesn't really know how his voice sounds, and certainly hasn't looked at him in such close vicinity.

 

Wonwoo’s much handsomer up close, with heavily monolidded eyes, a sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His gaze is intense and his presence commanding, but when he's dressed in pajamas a size too big for him— his sleeves fall past his fingertips and his pants pool at his ankles— Mingyu thinks he looks very _adorable._

 

Granted, Mingyu’s depth perception has been severely messed with seeing how he is still very much lying prone on the ground, but he figures that his very subjective taste for adorableness is functioning, regardless.

 

(Mingyu doesn't miss how Wonwoo has a badge pinned to the pocket of his pajama shirt as well, with _Jeon Wonwoo, Honourable General Secretary_ written across it in big, block letters. It's signed off with a big smiley face, and _fuck,_ that looks cute as well.

 

Mingyu doesn’t know why he finds Wonwoo cute all of a sudden, but he blames it on the booze Hansol slipped into his system or perhaps the way the room is kinda spinning in his vision from when he had knocked his head against the wooden floor.)

 

There's a look of concern on Wonwoo’s face and the corner of his lips are tilted down in a frown, and he reaches out to offer Mingyu a hand, a firm grip pulling him back onto his feet. Mingyu doesn't know if it's Wonwoo’s touch or the deep quality of his voice that makes his throat close up and sends a strange tingle all over his body, or maybe it's a combination of both.

 

He stumbles slightly before regaining his balance, feeling very much like that one time when Soonyoung had goaded him into taking a ballet class, and he had used his face as a landing platform for a failed pirouette.

 

“Oh my goodness— did I scare you there? I'm sorry, you weren't looking very well and I just wanted to know if you were— shit, is that _blood on your face?_ ”

 

“No! I mean— Yes, uh... I was already scared by Junhui, you just scared me again. Don't worry, I'm okay,” Mingyu manages to respond feebly, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. Luckily, he only has a cut above his eyebrow, and although the flesh wound stings, Mingyu rushes to reassure Wonwoo instead.

 

“It’s nothing, my friends make me bleed all the time.”

  
Wonwoo exhales audibly and his shoulders sag in relief. He offers Mingyu a smile— one that shows just a hint of teeth and looks so sweet, so _genuine,_ that Mingyu has to force himself to blink.

 

Wonwoo produces a band-aid out of nowhere (Mingyu thinks it came from his sleeping cap or something) and gently sticks it over Mingyu’s wound, the Pororo design a stark contrast against his dark, vampirish get-up. Mingyu is sure he’d lose his head if Seungcheol were to see it.

 

“I’m still sorry, I’ll take you out for supper after the party to make up for it, my treat. Hansol rigged all the food here with alcohol.”

 

Mingyu feels his mouth go dry all of a sudden, and he regrets throwing out the cup of juice or vodka or whatever it was, because he could really use a drink, both figuratively and literally. He manages to nod dumbly and stumble on his words when he tries to form them into a compliment.

 

“Yeah, that’ll be great. You're great too. Wait, I mean, _your_ , not you're— the clothes, they're great.”

 

_Way to fucking go, Kim Mingyu. The boy thinks you're an idiot now._

 

“Thanks. Jisoo said I was ruining the fun of Halloween costumes, but I think I can pass off as some sort of cuddle monster.”

 

Wonwoo raises his arms up in what's _supposed_ to be a threatening manner and bares his teeth to prove his point. (With his sleeves obscuring his hands and hair mussed in a way that the strands stick up in all directions, Mingyu thinks Wonwoo just reminds him of a overzealous puppy.)

 

“Besides, have you _seen_ Jisoo’s costume? He's dressed as a tube of toothpaste. I think he’s the one ruining the fun, but then again, Hansol’s a leech—”

 

Wonwoo words are promptly cut off when Jisoo comes looking for him, looking frantic and lost. Sure enough, he _is_ dressed as Darlie toothpaste, and Mingyu tries his hardest not to laugh at the sight of the tube having a meltdown, because Jisoo is actually a nice guy.

 

Apparently all the student councillors have been made identifiable, because Jisoo has the same badge pinned to his right chest, _Vice President_ penned in his own pretty, cursive handwriting.

 

Jeonghan is standing off to the side dressed as Harley Quinn, quite possibly the prettiest one Mingyu has ever seen. And believe him when he says that he has seen more than his fair share of Harley Quinn's across the years.

 

Jisoo pounds on Wonwoo’s back with his tiny fists, and lets out a wail that Mingyu swears he has only heard in those National Geographic documentaries Seokmin always watches, the ones of squealing wild boars and mating tigers. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and apparently Wonwoo thinks so too, because no sooner does he have Jisoo wrapped in a comforting hug.

 

“Jihoon screwed up big time, we are lacking scarers for the haunted house— he said something about Seungkwan being able to single-handedly scare everyone to death with his face— I didn’t know he was being literal!”

 

“Why is Jihoon calling the shots for a student councillor-manned party?”

 

“I listen to him being he’s my class monitor!”

 

Mingyu has to swallow his laughter at Jisoo’s sob story— for better or for worse, Jihoon has always been a man of his words. Wonwoo claps a hand on the vice president’s shoulder, who is so on edge that he jumps at the action.

 

“Hey, don’t worry. You look like you’re going to aspirate on air. I’ll be there in a second to help you,” Wonwoo volunteers, voice gentle and reassuring. Who cares if Wonwoo’s talking about choking on oxygen, Mingyu thinks that’s a voice he’d gladly wake up every morning to.

 

Jisoo looks immensely relieved, and pulls out a toothbrush from his pocket, brand new and with a black ribbon dotted with pumpkins tied around its handle. He closes Wonwoo’s palms around it, patting the back of his hand with about as much enthusiasm as a frantic hummingbird.

 

“Oh, _bless you_ , Wonwoo, here’s a toothbrush for your kindness.” Jisoo cries, and he looks ready to kiss Wonwoo any moment. Right then, Jisoo also _finally_ notices Mingyu’s presence, and he squints at him pensively, looking back at Wonwoo before his face lights up in understanding.

 

He rewards Mingyu with a couple of spearmint Mentos sweets, gives him a particularly hard wave, and with that, Jisoo takes off in the direction of the entrance, arms flailing in the air as he yells at the wave of students to _get their slow butts out of his way_.

 

Jeonghan has the decency to look apologetic, long hair billowing in the wind as he runs after him.

 

Wonwoo looks understandably sheepish when he excuses himself (“Duty calls, I have to save the vice president.”), and he gives Mingyu a light pat on the back of his hand before taking his leave.

 

His touch is warm, and Mingyu can’t seem to turn away as he watches Wonwoo stumble on the extra fabric of his pajamas, and out of the gym.

 

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

 

Seungcheol finds Mingyu looking rather dazed, and decides that it’s only apt that he clobbers the taller student on the head with the tiniest metal water canteen one has ever seen (a poor rendition of Romeo’s vial of poison) in order to "wake him up".

 

He looks mighty pleased with the reaction he gets out of Mingyu— Seungcheol gets cursed ten thousand ways to Sunday— and loops his arms around his best friend’s. He doesn't forget to steal Mingyu’s mints.

 

“Why are you standing around and looking like a dumbass? We’ve been looking everywhere for you! The idiots are already in queue for the haunted house— I mean, it’s not open yet, the councillors said that they were experiencing a short delay, but _still_ we gotta go man.”

 

Mingyu feels his blood run cold. “Haunted house?”

 

“Yeah, the one that spans across Block F. You know, that corridor of classrooms that your drunk ass ran down last term? You ran head first into an open locker. Man, I should’ve recorded you. Hey, do you think it got caught on surveillance? I need a copy of that shit.”

 

Mingyu cringes at that memory and slaps his hand over Seungcheol’s mouth, because _he_ had actually been the catalyst for Mingyu's walk (or run) of shame down the corridor— _fuck_ Seungcheol for drugging his orange juice.

 

“You _drugged_ me, you shameless piece of—”

 

Seungcheol obviously sees the need to reply, because he sinks his teeth into Mingyu’s hand, earning a howl of agony from the other student.

 

“Yeah, that’s because you were being an overgrown baby with your glass of OJ. If you had just listened to me, I wouldn’t have needed to drug you!”

 

“We had finals that week— you’re a _seriously_ bad influence, and I resent being friends with you.” Mingyu very well knows that Seungcheol can see the pout on his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

“Fucking whatever. Are you going to be a big baby about it again?” Seungcheol is now looking at Mingyu with big googoo-eyes, babbling in a voice one reserves for babies under the age of eighteen months.

 

He looks fucking stupid, Mingyu thinks, but the mockery does its job anyway, hitting a sensitive nerve.

 

Mingyu squares his jaw and thinks back to Jisoo and Wonwoo’s less than intimidating costumes, and reasons to himself that maybe the haunted house will not be that scary after all. Hansol as a leech is probably going to be the most traumatising thing in it anyway.

 

Mingyu traps Seungcheol in a headlock and roughhouses him out of the gym, towards Block F and his impending death. Seungcheol is _thrilled_ , and he’s shouting at students passing by about how his baby has finally blossomed into a big, strong man.

 

Mingyu feels his face burning with embarrassment, especially when Bokchoy sends him the most withering look he’s ever seen.

 

He reunites with Soonyoung and Seokmin at the front of the queue, and they throw themselves at Mingyu with deranged shrieks and obnoxious catcalls.

 

Mingyu gets one too many noogies to his head and rough slaps on his back, congratulating him on his inflorescence— in Soonyoung’s words, he’s "blooming into a delicate flower of manliness and testosterone."

 

A student councillor invites them down the corridor, and Mingyu finds himself contemplating all possible forms of suicide. (He would even bodily slam himself against this blood-stained wall if it meant that he would be knocked unconscious and sent home.)

 

The corridors are eerily devoid of human presence, which is strange considering the line of screaming kids that went in right before them. Seungcheol is deliriously pulling him into the first classroom they pass by— bloodied spiderwebs hang from the door frame and Mingyu can see tables and chairs strewn across the classroom floor.

 

(Seokmin and Soonyoung are nowhere in sight, having taken off running for their lives earlier.)

 

Mingyu digs the heels of his shoes into the ground and tries to steel himself away from the classroom, but he feels Seungcheol kicking at the back of his knees, that _bastard,_ and he crumples to the floor, falling past the door frame.

 

He scrambles to his feet, because fuck, the last he wants is a ghost dragging him deeper into the darkest pits of the classroom by his vulnerable limbs for dismemberment.

 

The door behind him slides shut with a click, and Mingyu knows he’s instantly screwed. He flings himself against the classroom door with a scream rivaling that of the goats he has only seen on Vine, and gets Seungcheol’s ugly snort of laughter in reply, muffled by the door separating them.

 

“Show ‘em your moves, Man-gyu!” Seungcheol cackles, and Mingyu's opening his mouth to reply when he hears fast-approaching footsteps followed by the girliest scream he has ever heard. He takes a moment to realise that it’s from _Seungcheol_ , and that his best friend has left him locked in a haunted classroom.

 

Mingyu blesses himself with a cross, and is praying to every God that his name doesn’t end up on the front page of the national newspaper as the boy who died from cardiac arrest in a school’s not-so-lame haunted attraction.

 

The lights flicker and Mingyu snaps his head to the side. He sees a faint silhouette seated at the teacher’s table— so strange, so familiar, so tube-like, so...

 

“Jisoo!” he hollers, and Mingyu nearly trips on a chair in his haste to get to the vice president. He’s the closest to tears he has ever been, not counting that one time he slammed his locker door shut on his pointer finger and proceeded to bawl his eyes out two years back.

 

The toothpaste’s back is turned to Mingyu, and he swerves around in the swivel chair at the call of his name. Mingyu almost shits himself at the bloodied sight before him.

 

Mingyu can’t even _see_ Jisoo’s face, for the student had pulled his costume down to the point that his head was encased by a fucking toothpaste cap— the one that he had previously worn as a cute accessory on the top of his head. It's really just a green knitted beanie, but it looks horrific with the outlines of Jisoo’s features emerging from the fabric.

 

Jisoo yells just once, a shrill yet muffled shriek, and Mingyu almost slaps him out of sheer terror.

 

“Jesus _fucking_ —”

 

“Don’t swear!” Jisoo suddenly rips the hat off his head, eyes widened to the point that one would think he was the one who saw a ghost instead. He frantically sticks his hands onto Mingyu’s face, covering his mouth as he repeatedly shakes his head.

 

“No swearing!”

 

Mingyu takes a moment to calm his racing heartbeat before he’s brushing Jisoo’s hands away. He can feel his skin getting clammy from sweat (and possibly tears, Mingyu can’t tell). The shorter student is caked in dried blood, his pristine white toothpaste get-up now stained a deep red.

 

Jisoo looks absolutely delighted, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as he fires finger guns at Mingyu and shoots winks his way.

 

“I scared you, didn’t I? I’m sorry, it’s my job— I want you to have a happy Halloween, but I just _had_ to, Hansol said so.” Jisoo laments, sounding very much like the melodramatic Shakespearean characters Mingyu is forced to learn about in literature class. There is a poorly disguised smile on his face, however, and it tells Mingyu that the other student is very much into his role as a scarer.

 

Mingyu throws himself onto a nearby table and really wants to die, because even the kindest student in school had managed to scare the living daylights out of him with little more than a pint of fake red liquid and a bloodcurdling scream. _You’re such a wimp, Mingyu. You’re a fucking wimp._

 

Jisoo’s face pops up above him, and Mingyu fights the urge to flinch, arms flying protectively to his face. Perhaps Mingyu’s fear shows on his face, because Jisoo’s looking adequately concerned.

 

“Are you alright? Did I ruin your Halloween?” Jisoo immediately looks so impossibly crestfallen, shoulders slumped pathetically, that Mingyu rushes to pacify him, even though he still hasn’t quite recovered his ability to speak.

 

“No! No, I’m having a great Halloween— But do you know what can make it an even better one?” Jisoo perks up immediately, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word, like a puppy waiting for a treat. “Please, please, _please—_ show me the way out.”

 

Jisoo jumps to his feet and pulls out a marker from the stationery drawer, mapping out the floorplan of the entire block on the classroom’s whiteboard. He circles the eighth classroom to the left, before suddenly squealing like a particularly excited piglet and scribbling it out.

 

Mingyu watches on apprehensively, growing increasingly wary of the suspicious smile on the toothpaste’s face. Jisoo circles the classroom next to it instead, and draws an exclamation mark above it.

 

“Here’s the exit!” He says a smidgen too enthusiastically. A question lingers on Mingyu’s tongue, but Jisoo’s already unlocking the door and hastily Mingyu pushing out of it.

 

He hesitates at the doorway, but remembers that Jisoo is _Jisoo,_ the school’s sweetest angel, and Jisoo would _never_ sign Mingyu’s life away to the grim reaper via instant cardiac arrest.

 

Mingyu _trusts_ Jisoo, so he continues his journey down the damned corridor with shaky legs and difficulty breathing. Fuck, these corridors were much easier to get through when he was drunk out of his mind. Maybe he really needs those drugs Seungcheol put in his drink.

 

Mingyu takes note of the number of classrooms he walks past (more like staggers by, he’s barely able to walk), but loses count somewhere in between three and five when a rotting Harley Quinn jumps out from one and chases him down the hallway.

 

Forget prettiest, Jeonghan is definitely the scariest Harley Quinn Mingyu has ever seen. Jeonghan’s hair falls over his face in messy, tangled locks and he is crusted with artificial blood too, except he looks ten times more realistic and terrifying. Jisoo just looks like he spilled cherry juice all over himself. (And Mingyu was _still_ scared anyway.)

 

An insult is hurled at Jeonghan and Mingyu receives a chime of laughter in response, like ringing bells when caressed by the wind.

 

He takes off when that laughter morphs into strangled screaming, and _fuck_ , is Jeonghan actually _convulsing_ on the floor? Mingyu grips the edges of his cape (“Animals make themselves look bigger to ward off any predators.”) and flaps it almost desperately.

 

He must look completely insane, because Jeonghan falters for just a moment before Rotting Harley Quinn is chasing Mingyu again, and Mingyu decides that _fuck it,_ he's going to cocoon himself within this stupid piece of fabric. While it definitely restricts his mobility, Mingyu's too far gone to care.

 

He tries to count the number of classrooms he's running past, but his escape is brought to a standstill when fingers wrap around his ankles and _pull_ , sending him plummeting face first to the ground. He gets all the wind knocked out of him, and man, does it _hurt_.

 

Mingyu briefly wonders whether student councillors are allowed to cause any form of physical harm to the students. Has Hansol really screwed the council over that badly? Mingyu finds himself entangled in his cape, _fuck Seungcheol and this outfit,_ and rolls over with a groan only to come face to face with Minghao, not a councillor, _no,_ but his lab partner in biology.

 

“Haha, I got you, _bitch.”_ The foreign lilt to Minghao’s voice only serves to taunt Mingyu further, fervently needling away at every last ounce of restraint he has. “That's for stealing my scalpel last week, you sabotaging dick.”

 

It's hard to recognise Minghao under his thick layer of face paint, but Mingyu recognises those bright eyes and he can even see the tips of pointed ears from beneath fluffy hair.

 

Fuck all his friends, Mingyu is certain Minghao only tripped him because he _knows_ Mingyu’s afraid. He makes a mental note to rethink his choice of buddies once he's out of this god forsaken place.

 

Minghao is dressed as the Joker, and while he’s certainly not as intimidating, Mingyu really doesn't want to linger around any longer than he should. (He hears Jeonghan screeching at his next victims a few classrooms down.)

 

He half-heartedly flips Minghao the finger and shoves him away, dusting himself off as he squints at the numbering plate above the nearest classroom door. _04-09—_ Mingyu thanks the high heavens when he realises that he has finally reached the exit Jisoo had so graciously pointed him to.

 

“Fuck you, I’m out of here.”

 

He ignores Minghao’s look of confusion and charges into the classroom. Granted, if Mingyu could think straight, he definitely would've realized that an exit _couldn't_ possibly be in a classroom.

 

He's continually blinded by the trust he has for Jisoo, because Mingyu fails to notice that he's very much still within the haunted attraction until a blurry mess of white sheets appears from behind the cabinets.

 

The ghost waves its white arms around almost comically and shouts a muffled _“Boo!”_ that has Mingyu’s brain promptly short-circuiting. He hadn't seen it coming, and he certainly hadn't braced his heart yet for another scare.

 

Mingyu doesn't mean to, he _really_ doesn't, but he swings his arm back and throws his fist forward, punching the ghost in the face.

 

The ghost knocks its head back with a pitiful whine of pain, falling to the ground, and Mingyu startles because _wait_ , that voice had sounded so...

 

“Ow— Mingyu?”

 

_”No way—"_

 

The ghost peels back the sheet of cloth to reveal a small Wonwoo looking rather sorry for himself, slender fingers gently prodding at his nose.

 

Mingyu sees the familiar student councillor drowning in his oversized pajamas and finally registers in his feeble little mind that he has just _punched_ Jeon Wonwoo in the face. The same Jeon Wonwoo that had checked on him out of pure kindness earlier on, the same cutie that had called himself the cuddle monster— Mingyu's just punched him _in the fucking face._

 

“Oh, _fuck,_ Wonwoo, I— I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to. Shit, you're _bleeding_ —” Mingyu tugs Wonwoo’s hands away by his wrist and is horrified to find his nose bloodied. This isn't the fake shit that Jisoo had doused himself in— this is the real shit you get when some bumbling idiot takes a swing at you and busts your nose in.

 

“I’m okay,” Wonwoo’s voice comes out shaky and several octaves higher, no doubt from the pain. He tries to steady it, to show Mingyu that it's _no biggie_ , but he’s betrayed by the tears threatening to fall.

 

Even with a bleeding nose and teary eyes, Wonwoo manages to give Mingyu a smile, and Mingyu feels like he’s the biggest asshole to have walked the face of the earth for causing harm to the loveliest boy he has ever had the privilege to meet. _You don't deserve to live, Kim Mingyu, you heartless_ monster _._

 

Wonwoo pulls out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and presses the small square of fabric to his nose, wincing at the applied pressure. Mingyu watches as it soaks in blood in a matter of seconds, and he's feeling way too guilty to not do anything, so he nudges Wonwoo’s hands away to hold the cloth to the student’s nose instead.

 

Mingyu misses the way Wonwoo's eyes widen at the gesture, too preoccupied with saving Wonwoo’s nose from bleeding out.

 

“Mingyu, I’m fine,” Wonwoo sniffs, voice reminiscent of a squeaking mouse with his nose no longer viable for breathing. “At least we’re even now?”

 

“Wonwoo, I don’t  _know_  if your nose will even  _function_  after this. Shut up and let me take care of it.”

 

Mingyu discards the handkerchief when it gets soaked through, and fumbles around for something else to stop the bleeding. He doesn't find any, so he settles on using the white sheet previously draped over Wonwoo (the same damn sheet that sent Mingyu’s fist flying in the first place) to staunch the bleeding.

 

Mingyu makes sure to be gentle with each press of the cloth, but his heart clenches at every pained expression Wonwoo makes. He curses his own stupidity and uncontrollable limbs for taking his shock out on Wonwoo, and suddenly thinks that a cardiac arrest might have been more ideal instead. _Maybe then Wonwoo wouldn't have gotten hurt?_

 

Mingyu belatedly realises how intently Wonwoo is staring at him, and when he looks up to meet the gaze, Mingyu catches glints of confusion and surprise in the student’s eyes.

 

The tips of Wonwoo’s ears are alarmingly red, and Mingyu swears they weren't that colour before. Wonwoo fiddles with his sleeves and tugs them over the tips of his fingers— probably a nervous habit, Mingyu thinks— and he's looking awfully shy.

 

Wonwoo looks away first, and it leaves Mingyu feeling self-conscious. The bleeding has stopped, _thank goodness_ , and Mingyu just wants to give the smaller student a tight hug. All Wonwoo wanted to do was help Jisoo with the haunted house, and all he got in return was a faceful of fist. Mingyu thinks that he's a heinous excuse of a human being.

 

He's blabbering every single variation of an apology he can possibly think of when Wonwoo reaches out to touch his cheek, causing him to do a double take. The student councillor looks so unsure of himself, and it's a look Mingyu's increasingly starting to hate seeing on Wonwoo.

 

Mingyu isn't sure why, but he has a sudden urge to kiss the other boy, and press his lips against his. He doesn't, but then Wonwoo gives him a smile so sincere that it sends Mingyu's breath whooshing out of his chest.

 

“Hey, it's alright.” Wonwoo’s voice sounds so lovely, and he's looking so _pretty_ (the tip of his nose is coloured a baby pink) that Mingyu’s more or less sure his heart has stopped beating, having given up at sustaining its useless owner. “I’ll let you treat me to supper later.”

 

At that moment, Wonwoo laughs, a tinkling and bright burst of sound that's a melody to Mingyu's ears, and Mingyu swears there and then that he's in love.

 

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

 

“You're alive! My baby is alive!”

 

Soonyoung looks noticeably relieved when Mingyu returns to the gym with Wonwoo in tow, pinkies interlocked and shoulders touching. (Wonwoo had led Mingyu out of the haunted house through the _real_ exit, and maybe he was too shy to hold the taller student's hand, because he'd just hooked their pinkies together instead after Mingyu's constant screams of bloody murder.)

 

Soonyoung's wings bounce along with every step he takes as he runs over to Mingyu, throwing his arms over the latter. He checks for any cuts and bruises— just like how he did when Mingyu missed the soccer ball and tripped over his own feet during physical education back in middle school. He had to endure two hours sitting in a cold dentist's chair after that. Soonyoung makes a sound of distaste at the Pororo bandaid.

 

“I would've killed Seungcheol if he ever let my child die in that classroom.” Soonyoung sniffs, clocking Seungcheol over his head, and Mingyu mentally pats himself on the back for making at least _one_ good friend choice.

 

Mingyu would've missed the soft exhale of Wonwoo’s laughter if not for the fact that he's so painfully aware of the smaller male’s presence. He's so _close_ , and it makes Mingyu’s chest tighten all over again.

 

Wonwoo has to leave eventually. He gets a call on his cellphone, and all Mingyu needs is to hear the nasal quality of the voice on the other line to know that it’s Jihoon demanding to know his whereabouts.

 

Lee Jihoon isn't a councillor, but he _is_ Jisoo’s class monitor and Wonwoo’s best friend, which explains why he's even helping out with the party in the first place.

 

 _(“Yo, man, I went to check on you and what do I find? Your freaking,_ bloody _cloth— Wonwoo, I thought you_ died _. Minghao told me he saw Mingyu entering your station last, I'd kill that overgrown sausage if he did anything to murder you. Come back, damn it, I’m tired of covering for you because people keep screaming that they’ve seen a_ baby _ghost.”_

 

_“It’s not my fault you’re small, Jihoon. I still have to get a new ghost sheet because I busted my nose and got blood all over it.”_

 

 _“What’s wrong with one you have now? You even have_ real _blood on it, dude, I’m using it right now and it’s like, seriously legit.”_

 

_“First off, that's gross. Second, you know I don’t like anything like that.”)_

 

Mingyu helps Wonwoo find another white sheet— they had a little too much fun deciding between the hall’s stage curtains and Hansol’s decorational tablecloth from the gym— and triangular holes are cut out for Wonwoo to see from.

 

They steal scissors and sharpies from the student council’s room (Wonwoo had smuggled Mingyu in) and doodle on the tablecloth with red and black ink, and in between fits of giggles and snorts of laughter, they end up leaving its lace trimmings on. The cloth is now patterned in stripes, because Wonwoo had apparently thought it a great idea to colour alternate stripes red.

 

(“Look at me, dude, I’m a candy cane.” Wonwoo flaps his arms and Mingyu almost dies at the ridiculousness of it. He badly wants to tell Wonwoo just how awfully unscary he looks, but he holds his tongue, because Mingyu knows he’d probably still get a heart attack if they were back in the haunted attraction.

 

“It’s not Christmas, Wonwoo.”

 

“Whatever!” Wonwoo replies breezily, and continues to outline the bright red stripes in thick, black marker.)

 

They eventually get chased out of the student council’s room by the janitor and Wonwoo has the fabric hanging loosely from his shoulders as Mingyu walks him back to Block F. He insists their capes are matching, and whilst Mingyu thinks that’s a stretch, he indulges Wonwoo anyway.

 

The councillor's looks adorable all snuggled up in that tablecloth, it’s actually making Mingyu a little reluctant to unwrap him from it. The last time he saw anything so heart-wrenchingly cute was when he brought a stray russian blue kitten back to his dorm, and it had made itself home in the warm blankets. (Unfortunately, Seungcheol called pest control on it, and landed Mingyu’s ass in the principal’s office.)

 

Mingyu briefly wonders when exactly did he start getting so weak. It’s probably when Seungcheol kicked the cat back onto the streets, really. Mingyu was teary-eyed for days, and couldn’t bear to look at the blanket the kitten had curled itself up in. He still, to this day, hasn’t gotten over it.

 

“Go get them, cuddle monster.”

 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at this and gives Mingyu’s shoulder a playful shove, and Mingyu can see the glint of amusement in his eyes.

 

The corners of his lips turn up in a smile, and then he’s pulling the cloth over his head, tugging and adjusting it to fit. Mingyu wills himself not to find Wonwoo endearing even when he’s just staring at him with big, wide eyes from the holes cut in the cloth.

 

“I’ll see you later?” While Wonwoo sounds hushed behind the piece of cloth, Mingyu doesn’t think he’s imagining the eagerness and hopefulness in his voice.

 

Mingyu smiles, one that is wide and showing his canines. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween! here's 7.3k of swearing and just a little plot as a gift
> 
> thank you all who supported my first fic and wanted to see more from me (//▽//) I'm back with a holiday collection, _season's greetings_ — I'll write one/two-shots for every holiday, and the stories will be individual chapters, but within this work
> 
> so that was the first holiday, halloween (psst, christmas is next) I swear there'll be more interactions in the chapters to come
> 
> please leave me comments on what you think of part one! ♡
> 
> s/o to my beta chorusofthesong, you so bomb I think you deserve to be called alpha instead

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween! here's 7.3k of swearing and just a little plot as a gift
> 
> thank you all who supported my first fic and wanted to see more from me (//▽//) I'm back with a holiday collection, season's greetings— I'll write one/two-shots for every holiday, and the stories will be individual works, but within the same series
> 
> so that was the first holiday, halloween (psst, christmas is next) I swear there'll be more interactions in the chapters to come
> 
> please leave me comments on what you think of part one! ♡
> 
> s/o to my beta chorusofthesong, you so bomb I think you deserve to be called alpha instead
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bbaekstillcute) @bbaekstillcute, I'm friendly!


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